


In With The In-Laws

by Basmathgirl



Series: The Peter Chronicles [8]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Fright Night (2011)
Genre: Disapproving Family, F/M, Sexual Content, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4664073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their good news, Peter has to consider how he would cope when he meets his mother-in-law for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I don’t own anything beyond a couple of DVDs.

  
  
This fantastic banner was made by [beachy_geek](beachy-geek.livejournal.com)!

Donna stood anxiously in the airport waiting for Sylvia to appear. This could go really badly or wonderfully well; she never knew with her mother. Peter had magnanimously offered to pay for both Sylvia and Wilf to fly over first class, as he had been unable to just get time off from his show. These things had to be planned well in advance. Not that Sylvia had appreciated that fact when the arrangements were first proposed.

“Not only does he steal you from your new husband he makes us fly halfway around the world to see him!” Sylvia had griped at the time. It was a grumble Donna would hear time and time again. Anyone would think her mother wasn’t grateful someone had taken Donna off her hands.

“Donna!” was yelled out as Sylvia came through to the main concourse, trundling her suitcase behind her.

“Mum!” Donna cried out in return, and ran forwards to greet her. “How was your flight?”

“Long!” Sylvia said, and grimaced. “And it’s hot here.”

Donna rolled her eyes. This was exactly what she had been expecting. “Yes, really hot,” she agreed instead. “Thankfully we’ve got air conditioning in the car.”

“Where is he then?” Sylvia peered behind Donna. “Where’s this Peter I keep hearing about?”

Donna wanted to gawp at her in disbelief. Did she still not believe he existed? “I told you, he has a show to do tonight; but he will come and have a meal with us straight afterwards,” Donna explained, bending down to take hold of her mother’s suitcase, and leading the way out of the main doors.

“Are we getting a taxi?” Sylvia asked anxiously. “I don’t have a lot of American money on me.”

“Mum! I’ve got a car waiting. All I have to do is text Andre and he’ll come pick us up,” Donna said, pulling out her phone to press ‘send’ on her text message.

“Andre,” Sylvia mimicked. “Does he even speak English?”

Donna huffed in exasperation and then chose to ignore the question. “There he is!” she declared with relief, and waved at an approaching limousine.

The car pulled up by the side of Donna and a tall man in a dark uniform climbed. “Hello Donna, Mrs Noble,” he said. “Welcome to Las Vegas.”

Sylvia mumbled, “Thank you” in reply and let him place her case in the boot while she got in. She sat there looking a bit stunned.

“Where to, Donna?” Andre asked when he climbed back in.

“We’re going to see Peter first, thanks, Andre,” Donna replied; and they were swept off. So far, so good, Donna thought with relief.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“Donna? What are all those fancy posters we keep seeing? Who is that bloke, and what’s going on?” Sylvia asked from the back seat of the limousine.

“Oh that!” Donna remarked, looking out of the window to glance at what her mother was referring to. All along the boulevard there were large posters proclaiming that Peter Vincent, magician extraordinaire, was performing at a local theatre. “That’s Peter, promoting his show,” she said proudly.

“Him?! That’s him? What the hell is he supposed to be?!” exclaimed Sylvia in disbelief. “He looks like a Cavalier in a knocking shop!”

“Mum!” Donna retorted indignantly. “That’s his stage costume. You just wait until you see the real him.”

“I can hardly wait,” Sylvia replied sarcastically. “Thank goodness he isn’t French. That _would_ put the tin hat on it. He doesn’t look much of a man though. Probably spends all his time chasing after the latest boy, and married you as a cover. Is he much cop as a magician?”

Donna glared at her. She really wished Gramps had been well enough to come too; he always made things seem easier with her mother. “What a good job he left us tickets to see him when you arrive. Obviously you are going to love seeing his show,” Donna told her.

Sylvia rolled her eyes. That was all she needed after a long flight; sitting in a darkened room watching some poncified bloke try and do some lame magic tricks.

At that point the limousine pulled up to a swish looking hotel door, and the doorman leapt forward to open the car door to help them out. “Good evening, Mrs Vincent. I hope you are well this evening,” he greeted Donna.

She took his hand and let him help her out. “Thank you, Jason. I hope you are well too. This is my mother, Sylvia Noble,” she greeted him in return.

Sylvia fought desperately not to be impressed as she was handed out of the car. “Doesn’t look too bad a place,” she commented, sweeping her gaze over everything.

“It’s not too bad here,” Donna replied. “Come and see some more of it.”

She left Jason to pull out her mother’s luggage, and led Sylvia through a huge lobby and eventually through to the theatre, pointing out each landmark as they went.

The theatre usher nodded them through, and they entered the auditorium. Natalie the waitress rushed up to them, and whispered her greetings to Donna before guiding them to a reserved seat. Donna had more fun watching her mother’s expression as Peter’s act played out on the stage. There were disappearing coffins, vampires that appeared from nowhere, and a girl who was resurrected from the dead. She knew her mother would play it down enormously, but she could tell she was enjoying all the spectacle. Sylvia even clapped loudly at the end. Donna felt very proud when Peter bowed and caught her eye briefly.

Knowing that Peter was very particular with how the props were put away, she led Sylvia out towards their private quarters instead. She was quite pleased with the gasp of surprise Sylvia made when she opened the front door to the apartment. “What do you think, Mum?” she anxiously asked.

“Very nice,” Sylvia slowly replied as she turned to look at everything in the living area.

“Good!” Donna exclaimed with relief. “I’ve arranged for dinner to be delivered for us to eat here tonight, as you must be starving.”

“Well, I am that,” Sylvia agreed. “What about _him_?”

“You mean Peter? He’ll be along in a minute. Tea, Mum?” she offered, heading for the kitchen.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Peter appeared in full costume just as she finished pouring out the boiling water. “How’s it going?” he asked in a low voice, as he swooped in for a welcoming kiss.

“So-so,” she admitted. “She’s doing my head in already.”

“Then I’d better go charm her,” he told her. He cupped her cheek tenderly. “Now don’t fucking worry; I’ll deal with it.”

“Emo boy to the rescue, huh? I’d like to see you try it!” she snorted at him. “Especially without swearing.”

He shot her a look that dared her to do better, picked up one of the cups of tea, and walked into the living area where Sylvia was trying to make sense of the TV remote control.

Peter carefully placed the cup down on the table in front of Sylvia, smiled pleasantly, offered his hand and said, “Hello Mrs Noble! I’m Peter. How lovely to meet you at last. How was the flight?”

“Very comfortable, thank you,” Sylvia replied stiffly, amazed and startled to see him dressed in his full stage costume; and up close. He wasn’t at all what she had expected from what Donna had said. She couldn’t help staring at his bizarre tattoos as she briefly shook his decorated hand.

Peter noticed her puzzled gaze, and realised he hadn’t removed his stage persona. “Excuse me just for a moment,” he murmured.

Then to Sylvia’s utter astonishment, he yanked off a wig, slowly peeled off his facial hair, removed bits and pieces before taking his jacket off, revealing his bare torso. “Donna! Did you… oh thanks!” he said as Donna handed him a clean shirt to wear. He ran a hand through his hair and beamed at Sylvia. “That’s better!”

Sylvia was still gawping at him, transfixed. Peter threw Donna a desperate glance that asked what the matter was. Donna threw him an equally confused look back. “Are you okay, Mum?” she asked.

“Yes… I’m… Peter is… Oh my!” Sylvia gasped, clutching at her throat.

“I’ll get you some water,” Donna offered and headed for the sink.

Sylvia watched her cautiously go, and then hissed low at Peter, “Are you him?”

“I’m Peter Vincent, yes…” Peter gingerly answered as he sat down, wondering where the heck this was going.

Sylvia glanced anxiously to where Donna was, again. “Did you know?”

“Did I know what?” he asked in return.

Sylvia vaguely pointed at him. “You look…,” she began to say.

His eyes went wide in question. “I look…?” he encouraged, hoping the answer wouldn't be God awful.

Donna reappeared holding a glass of ice cold water and passed it to Sylvia, so Sylvia changed her reply to, “You look tired. Doing all that pointing at fire must take it out of you.”

She couldn’t hold in her sneer as Peter pulled Donna down to sit next to him as he sprawled on a large leather chair.

“Are you tired?” Donna asked him with some concern.

He deliberately wrapped his arms around her, hoping to rile Sylvia by doing so, before replying, “No more than usual. How have you been today?”

“Running about, getting things ready,” Donna said meaningfully. “Oh! That reminds me! I didn’t put the towels in Mum’s room.”

“Do that f… later,” he told her, as she tried to get up.

“No, I’d better do it now,” she insisted, and headed for the bedroom leaving them on their own.

Peter couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer. “What were you really going to say, Sylvia?”

Sylvia sat herself up straight as though she were squaring herself for a fight. “I was going to say you look the spitting image… of the Doctor!”

Peter blanched before rage welled up in him. Not this again?! “Yes, I know!” he snapped at her. “But Donna doesn’t.”

“What doesn’t Donna know?” Donna asked as she returned. “Come on, tell me!”

“I was… I was just f… f… telling your mum that you don’t know exactly when John will come back,” Peter tried to cover himself.

“Yes I do! He told me exactly when he’d be back.” She turned to explain to Sylvia, “I take it he told you I met his brother, John?”

“No. He was about to,” Sylvia answered.

“This is him,” Donna said, picking up a framed photo from a wall display to show Sylvia more clearly. The photo showed Donna, Peter and someone who was obviously the Doctor.

“When was this taken?” Sylvia demanded sternly. She was miffed to know the Doctor had turned up in Donna’s life and she’d known nothing about it.

“A few days after I got here,” admitted Donna. “Why? Is there something wrong?”

Sylvia pointed at the Doctor, suddenly lost for words. “Peter looks just like his brother,” she lamely said in the end.

Peter breathed in a sigh of relief behind Donna’s back. “Shall we eat?” he asked in invitation.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Peter turned over and spooned in behind Donna, whispering into her ear, “Are you awake?” He placed a kiss on her neck just in case she was.

“Yes, but you can forget it,” she blearily answered.

“And why’s that?” he demanded, smoothing his hands seductively over her body. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

“Peter, my mother is in the other room!” she hissed at him in warning.

“Fuck that! I’m here in this room, right now, and I want… a bit of fun,” he schmoozed her, adding in a pout. “What if I promise to be quiet?”

She turned over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You… quiet?”

“Well I can promise; I’m not sure I can deliver,” he admitted. “It depends…”

“On what?” she inevitably asked.

“How much noise you make,” he answered.

“She’ll kill me if I do,” Donna told him.

“And I should give a fuck if she gets annoyed because…? All she’s done is glare at me so far. Come on, I don’t want this going to waste,” he tried to entice her. He licked slowly up her neck whilst pressing insistently against her body, leaving her with a clear idea what could go to waste.

She pressed herself against him in return, and within seconds he had divested her of her nightdress and her knickers. “A bit keen, aren’t you?” she wondered.

Peter flung off his own underwear, and returned to nestle against her. “Too fucking right I am, after the Wicked Witch of the West tried to burn me with her eyes all evening for daring to sit with you.” He got her to shift position slightly, and pushed in with a happy groan.

Donna swatted his arm. “Don’t call her that! Oh yes! Just like that… more of that,” she stuttered out. “She doesn’t see you like I see you yet.”

“Hopefully she never fucking will,” he mumbled next to her skin. “Oh God you’re good!”

They hungrily kissed each other then, as they undulated together; sliding their bodies in sync. He then shifted position to get a hand inbetween them. “You are going to make as much fucking noise as you want,” he promised as he used his fingers to bring her closer to orgasm. Eagerly he joined in her sighs of ecstasy; probably deliberately grunting loudly as he drove her on. With a deafening moan she cum, clenching deliciously around him, bringing him to his own peek.

They giggled and panted together in their joint glee. “Was I noisy?” she asked him anxiously.

He kissed her hard. “Gloriously so!” he replied; and he playfully bit her.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Peter found himself sharing the breakfast table with just Sylvia, and all she had done so far was glare at him like she had the previous evening. His patience was wearing very thin. All he could think of was Donna had better hurry up and finish drying herself and her hair otherwise a certain mother-in-law might end up out on her earhole.

“Is there a problem, Sylvia?” he eventually asked.

“Yes!” she instantly replied sniffily. “The problem is you.”

“Me? What the f… have I done?” he demanded.

“I heard you having sex with _my_ daughter in the night. All that noise; it isn’t seemly,” Sylvia huffed.

Peter sighed and mentally counted up to ten before he answered. “It might have escaped your notice, but it is completely legal to make love to your wife.”

“How do I know she’s your wife? For all I know she could still be married to poor Shaun,” she argued.

“If she still is then I’ve spent a shitload of money for nothing,” he snapped at her.

Sylvia wriggled indignantly in her seat. “Is that what you did? Did you buy her? Is that how you enticed her away from a decent man?”

“What the fuck are you on about?!” he spat back. “Are you saying she is some sort of fucking prostitute? She certainly isn’t a gold-digger; and for your information, Shaun was stealing her from me but he didn’t succeed. She came right back to me because she fucking knows what’s good for her!”

“Don’t you swear at me!” Sylvia bristled angrily at him.

“Then don’t be such a fucking stuck up c… cow!” he retorted. “Come on, what’s the real problem with me? From what I’ve been told, you should be over the moon Donna left England to be with me.”

“You dumped her and ran off with another woman. And then she hooked up with _that_ man!” Sylvia griped loudly. “She almost died because of him!”

Peter leapt up out of his seat in anger. “Oh for fuck’s sake! I did not dump her; she got the wrong end of the stick about my act. And as for _him_ … don’t fucking throw him in my face! I’ve had him sniffing around her like a dog on heat, and I’ll beat the shit out of him again if I have to!”

“You hit the Doctor?” she asked in awe.

“Yes I fucking did!” he replied, still enraged; but he finally felt he had done something right in Sylvia’s eyes.

She then completely surprised him by asking, “Shall I make us some tea?” And then she bustled off.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	2. Chapter 2

Peter was padding about in just his black silk dressing gown, looking for something when Donna caught him. “Got you!” she exclaimed, making him jump. “What are you doing?”

“What does it fucking look like I’m doing?! I’m looking for something.” He fumbled at the back of a bureau drawer frantically.

Donna sashayed up to him and hugged him around the waist from behind. “Why don’t you tell me what you are looking for, and then I can help you,” she suggested in her most seductive tones.

He huffed angrily, and started to turn in her embrace. “I can’t find my copy of the fucking agreement…” His voice faded away as he caught sight of what she was wearing underneath her own dressing gown. “Is that new?” he asked with renewed interest. He keenly swept back the edges of the cream silk dressing gown she wore to get a better look at the negligee she had on. “That is fucking fantastic! And oh look… it has matching knickers!”

“Of course,” Donna crowed. “I like to pay attention to details.”

“Those are some details!” he exclaimed with delight as he clearly ogled her body, and he ran his hands over her voluptuous curves. “I’d better get a closer look.”

Peter plunged his face into Donna’s cleavage and she giggled loudly at his absurdity. She laughed even more when she found herself pinned beneath him on the leather sofa as he released a breast for him to tease her nipple with gentle flicks from his tongue. She groaned and arched into his touch, enjoying the way his nimble fingers smoothed over her silk knickers until they were wet with her need for him.

God how he loved the way this woman made him feel! Her bare legs were caressing the backs of his thighs as he teased and tasted her breasts, and feeling her through the silk of her underwear was a wonderful new sensation; so near and yet so far. He couldn’t hold off any longer, and his fingers delved below the silk and cotton gusset to seek out her aroused flesh. Again she groaned loudly, and reached out to fondle him in kind. His cock was extremely happy about that! Her expert fingers swirled down, around and over him, spreading pre-cum and enticing him to thrust into her hand.

Fuck this! He didn’t have to make do with a hand job when he had an exquisite pussy dripping for him. With determined focus he tugged down his underwear, pushed aside the gusset of her knickers, and plunged in to her delicious heat. “Oh yes!” he cried out.

“Yes!” Donna echoed, moving with him. She cried out again as he sucked in one nipple and tweaked the other into pertness. It seemed at times that she could never get enough of him and his leather fetish; the smell of the leather sofa seemed to add to the experience.

Their love song continued as he lifted her in order to encourage her to ride him hard. He was deeply embedded in her and sharing hungry kisses when they both heard, “What the bloody hell do you think you two are doing?!”

Peter gripped Donna firmly around the waist, not letting her move off him even though she had stilled, and he disdainfully turned his head to regard a very angry Sylvia standing mere feet away.

How dare she barge in on them, in _that_ tone of voice?! “What does it look like, Sylvia?” he snapped at her. “We’re fucking!”

She glared back at him, disregarding Donna’s evident embarrassment. “Did you have to make enough noise to wake the dead?!” she demanded.

He had Donna in a death-grip now, discouraging any movement away from him. “The dead certainly don’t need my help to wake up. Now if you would kindly piss off back to bed, we can fucking finish here!” he ordered Sylvia.

Her mouth moved as though she was going to protest further, but obviously she was having difficulty thinking of a decent enough repost. With some reluctance, she stormed off back to bed, to mull over all the possible answers she could have thrown at him.

“Peter…,” Donna began to say.

He growled at her in anger. “Don’t fucking apologise! I’ve told you before about that. We have the right to do this in our own home, whenever we want; do you hear me?” His voice then dropped so that it was soft and tender, “Don’t let her ruin what we have. She’s just some silly bitch overcome with jealousy. You’re too beautiful for that.”

She caressed his face, overcome with love and awe for him. He made her feel so special, so wonderful; no one had ever made her feel that great before, not within conscious memory. She bit at his mouth passionately, wanting to reward him for protecting her.

“Oh yes! Oh baby, yes!” he cried out as she moved on him, sending him higher as desire for her flowed through him. He tried desperately not to think of the Doctor as he pounded into Donna, but each stroke and thrust felt like confirmation that Donna was his, and he possessively thrust into her, reclaiming her body and soul. His climax was all the more delightful for it as he cum hard into Donna as she squealed on him. He kissed down her body, planting grateful murmurs as he went, until he reached his goal. “And now for your reward,” he whispered. Lowering his head, he suckled on her clit and sent her over the edge with a loud howl of joy. Oh yes! She performed exactly as he wanted her to. It was a good reminder to people that you don’t fuck with the Vincents.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“I don’t know how you can live with yourself,” Sylvia griped at him at the first opportunity the following day.

“What the fuck are you on about, Sylvia? _You_ walked in on _us_ having sex and you’ve got the barefaced bloody cheek to tell me off! No, I’m not having that.” He shook his head at her. “You can take your poxy double standards and shove them where the sun don’t shine.”

“What do you mean ‘double standards’?” Sylvia demanded with another huff.

“I’m referring to the fact you’ll be over the fucking moon when you hear about the baby,” he fumed at her.

“Baby? What baby? There’s a baby?” Sylvia asked eagerly.

Peter wiped his hand down his face. Bugger! He hadn’t meant to tell her yet. Eventually he gave in and reluctantly admitted, “Yes, Donna’s pregnant.” Now he’d gone and done it!

Sylvia clapped her hands in glee. “I’m going to be a grandmother! I can’t wait to tell Dad!”

Peter held out a hand in warning towards her. “Just hold off for a while, would you? Donna wants to make sure everything is okay before any announcements are made. We’ve got a scan scheduled in a few days, so shut the fuck up about it until then. Okay? Let Donna tell you once she has the hard evidence in her hand from the ultrasound.”

“Of course,” Sylvia readily agreed. “I understand her being a bit worried at her age.”

Peter glared at her. He knew she’d make a dig at Donna over something or other soon enough. “And I’m warning you now, if you upset her and this baby is harmed I shall not be responsible for my actions!” he threatened her. “I don’t care who the fuck you are!”

“No, I see, Peter,” Sylvia immediately relented.

“Good! I’ll go make us some tea,” he announced, and made for the kitchen.

Donna appeared some minutes later, looking a bit green around the gills. “Morning, Mum,” she gulped out.

“What’s the matter, Donna?” Sylvia asked with surprising sympathy, which caught Donna totally off guard.

“Feeling a bit sick,” Donna admitted. “It must have been something I ate last night.” She immediately winced, waiting for the verbal onslaught from her mother regarding their nighttime sexual shenanigans. She widely opened her eyes when it didn’t happen.

“You have to be careful with food in this heat,” Sylvia answered, and she fought to hide her inner glee. It was quite fun having this sort of secret for a change.

“Here you go, Sylvia,” Peter announced as he placed a cup of tea in front of her. “And for my gorgeous wife,” he added, handing Donna a cup and giving her a triumphant grin. He then deposited himself in his favourite chair with his usual care. “I was thinking… We could fly back after Sylvia next week and spend a couple of days in London with your grandfather.”

“But you said…!” Donna found herself overcome with surprise and elation.

Peter beckoned her over to sit with him, smiling slyly. “A couple of days can’t hurt, surely? I’d already been asked to allow a charity show to go on,” he confessed. “So I was going to spend a few days with you.”

“Oh Peter!” Donna exclaimed, and lovingly hugged him.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

After a small battle to get Sylvia to consider exploring on her own, Donna was whisked off to her ultrasound appointment with Peter. She was feeling very uneasy about it, as though the technician would find some problem with the baby. Why she was worrying about it having two hearts in particular was beyond her, but she did!

“Here you go, Donna. There’s the sonogram of your son,” the technician said as she handed over the photographic evidence of their baby. He was a blip, but he was _her_ tiny blip!

Peter, of course, was over the moon about it being a boy. “Do we have to worry about him not being born in England?” Donna asked him. “I mean, these days you can play for England if your parents are English.”

Peter had laughed at that. “As if a son of mine would be interested in fucking sport like that! He’d be more likely to take over Apple,” he scoffed.

“It’s something Gramps will bring up,” Donna told him. “He’ll worry about that sort of thing.”

“Then we’ll have to get him to worry about something else,” Peter said.

“Like vampire slaying?” Donna teased him.

Peter visibly blanched. “Don’t even fucking joke about that… just don’t!”

“Isn’t it time you told me why I shouldn’t, Peter?” she asked tenderly.

“No,” he instantly answered. “I’ll tell you, but not now.”

“Okay, I trust you,” she said, and reached up to kiss his cheek as he sighed with relief. “Just remember, I will be expecting an answer pretty soon.”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“There they are!” Wilf exclaimed with sheer delight as he peered through the lounge window. “There’s my girl!” He raced to the front door, and by the time he wrenched it open Donna was climbing out of the taxi outside the house. He didn’t look properly at the bloke climbing out the other side of the taxi to get the luggage out; his attention was completely on Donna.

“Is it them?” Sylvia asked as she joined her father at the door, wiping her hands desperately on a tea towel. She bobbed her head around the frame of the door to get a better look.

“Donna!” Wilf yell out as Donna turned her gaze towards the house.

Donna’s hand flew to cover her mouth as she had an ‘oh my god’ moment. “Gramps!” she cried out, and ran to embrace him.

Wilf hugged her tightly in return. “I’ve missed you,” he confessed.

Donna pulled back to wipe away the tears that had formed in her eyes. “I’m not that far away really. Gramps, I have someone I’d like you to meet.” She indicated towards the man by her side, who at that moment had bent down to place their cases on the gravel. “This is Peter.”

Peter immediately straightened up and beamed his best smile at Wilf. Thrusting out his hand in greeting, he said, “Hello! It’s lovely to meet you.”

Wilf gasped, and after hesitating shook Peter’s hand with delight. “And you! Oh my! I can’t believe it’s you!”

Peter frowned at him in puzzlement. “Are you aware of my work over here? I hadn’t expected that,” he admitted.

“Dad…,” Sylvia tried to distract him.

“Look who it is, Sylvia! Come in, my boy. Come in,” Wilf greeted Peter, opening the door wide in invitation.

Sylvia touched Peter’s arm briefly as he walked passed her. “I’m sorry, Peter,” she whispered, indicating her head towards Wilf, who was now happily chatting away to Donna. “He thinks you’re someone else.”

“Oh!” he answered, his face falling in realisation as to who he had been mistaken for. “It looks like Gramps is going to be very disappointed in me.”

“Not to worry,” she tried to console him. “I’ve left the good news for Donna to tell him, so that should help to win him round.”

But Peter didn’t feel so confident about that. “I’ll get the cases,” he said resignedly, and stepped outside to drag their luggage inside. He was shocked when Wilf came bustling back out into the hallway to where he now stood.

“Where is he?” Wilf asked cheerfully before he caught sight of Peter. Wilf clasped Peter into a hug that was totally unexpected, and Peter didn’t know whether to return it or not. “I knew you’d come back to save her,” Wilf told him in a low voice. “I’m so glad to see you!”

“Erm… Wilf… Gramps… I erm… I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m Peter Vincent and only Peter Vincent,” he admitted. “I’m not anybody else. I think you’re muddling me up with…” It was at that point that he noticed Donna hovering in the kitchen doorway. “I think you might have met my brother, John.”

“I forgot about John,” Donna said with a laugh as she re-entered the hallway. “Are we going to visit him while we’re here? I’m sure Mum and Gramps would love to meet him.”

Peter tried to quell his panic reaction. “I erm… I don’t know where he is at the moment. He travels about quite a bit with his job; what with how the economy is…” His voice trailed off as he couldn’t think how to end the lie.

Wilf was still looking at him in confusion, so Sylvia grabbed hold of his sleeve and steered him into the kitchenette. “Stop standing about blocking the hallway, Dad. There’s tea to be made,” she said as she did so.

Well, that went weirdly, Peter thought. Hardly through the door and he not only is mistaken for the Doctor but he’s being persuaded to contact the bastard! Thank goodness he took a sedative before arriving; it looked like it was going to be a long couple of days.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	3. Chapter 3

It amazed Peter how small he found the house, having got used to the size of his apartment. It was almost claustrophobic and reminded him far too much of the foster homes he had lived in for part of his young life. Even the smells of the cleaning products in the bathroom were the same. As a consequence he hastily popped a sedative as he got ready for bed. 

“So this was your bedroom…,” he began to say when he took in Donna’s room. In some respects it was quite sterile, with its lack of wall art or clutter. “Didn’t you have any teen idols?”

“Of course,” Donna answered as she released the curtain at the window after peering out into the dark. There’d been faint scurrying about outside but nothing she could see. It didn’t feel quite right. She then bustled about as she dealt with putting her clothing away. “I’ve grown up since then. I don’t lust after teeny boppers anymore.”

Peter took that as his cue to place his mark on the room. “Who do you lust after?” he asked, walking up and positioning himself behind her. Quite closely; in fact, almost insanely closely.

She giggled. “Oh, you know; the usual. I seem to have gained a certain fondness for emo magicians. God knows why. They are so full of themselves,” she told him as he wrapped himself around her.

“I can fill you instead, if you like. There’s plenty to go round,” he purred seductively into her ear.

“Promises promises,” she taunted him. “No doubt that pill you took a moment ago will render you useless to me.”

“Then we’d better be quick before everything fucking dies,” he suggested, running his hand suggestively over her upper thigh. “See how you inspire me to fulfil my potential. Although I might have to leave you to finish us off on your own if you don’t hurry up.”

“Someone might hear,” she hoarsely said with concern. “Maybe we shouldn’t…!” She let out a gasp as his hand smoothly released the catch on her trousers and delved in below the elastic of her underwear.

“Are you seriously suggesting I gag you? Because you are one sexy bitch,” he crooned next to the skin of her neck. His fingers were working their magic on her now, reaching in to set a delicious rhythm on her tender flesh, heightening her desire for him. 

She wriggled back onto him, enjoying the hard push of his body. “Oh dear!” She pressed a hand to her forehead in mock shock. “I seem to have dropped something.”

At first alarmed that she was moving away from him, Peter watched in glee as she slowly bent over in invitation, balancing her hands against the wardrobe. Within seconds he had pulled down her lower garments and his own. “Oh no, everything around here is dropping, and I seem to be falling onto you,” he added to her scenario; and groaned happily as he sunk into her body. “Fucking hell, woman! You certainly know how to please me.”

“Shush!” she hissed at him. “They’ll hear us.”

“I don’t fucking care,” he softly answered, adjusting his stance. “They can bugger off and get their own sex life.” He then returned his hand to tease her and bring her to orgasm. “Care to join me in a little light screaming?”

“Peter!” she huffed out, wondering when this sweet torture would end. “I… On my god!” Her next words were covered by groans of ecstasy as he drove them on and higher.

Leaning across her, Peter wrenched open one of her wardrobe doors, and they were met with their reflection in the slender glass inside. “Do you see that,” he declared in husky tones, “in that fucking mirror is the most gorgeous woman in the whole world; the woman I love, and best of all, she’s mine.”

She met his proud eyes in the mirror and was able to overlook her normal qualms about her reflection, because he made her feel like a queen; a goddess. It was empowering and dead sexy.

“That’s it; let the fucking world know we can do this to our heart’s content,” he coaxed as she let out a low moan of desire. His own breaths began to stutter. 

The room was full of grunts, moans and whimpers of rapturous pleasure for several seconds; and then….well, anyone one would think that she had stabbed him judging by the noise he made, when you could almost argue that the reverse had happened. 

Downstairs, Wilf was watching the evening news when he suddenly turned the sound down on the television, and turned to Sylvia to ask, “What the heck was that?!”

Sylvia blushed. “Erm, Dad, it’s alright. I think it was only our Donna.”

“No it wasn’t,” he replied confidently. “Donna has never made a noise like that before.” 

“She wasn’t married to Peter before,” she tartly pointed out. Clearing her throat, she added, “He was like this when I went to stay with them last week.”

“What do you mean he was like this?” Wilf innocently queried and then gasped. “He’s not beating her up, is he? The swine!”

“No Dad, no!” she quickly replied, throwing out a hand to touch his arm in consolation as he protectively went to rise from his seat. “He isn’t like that at all. He adores our Donna; a little too much, if you ask me.” 

“Why? What’s wrong with how he treats her?” he demanded to know. “If he upsets her in any way, I’ll have him!”

“Calm down, Dad. How can I say this? He erm… he keeps… Ooh, they’re at it like bloody rabbits!” she said in a rush.

“Are they?” he mumbled in wonder. After some moments, he added, “Do you think she chose him because he looks like his Lordship?”

“Who’s to say,” Sylvia remarked. “All I know is that he can’t leave her alone for five minutes without… well, never you mind.”

“He’s giving you a grandchild, ain’t he? So I think you ought to be nicer to him,” Wilf commented, and then almost changed his mind when the noise started up again. 

“See! He’s obsessed!” Sylvia spat with disdain. 

Wilf merely turned the television volume back up and pretended to be elsewhere.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

They were fast asleep in bed when a strong cold breeze and a noise at the window woke Peter up. What the hell was that?! He jumped awake, thinking it had been a dream. So he headed towards the bathroom and mentally noted that the landing window was ajar. Then he spotted a very familiar shape on the landing. His blood ran cold as an equally familiar stench wafted up. The inevitable had finally happened and he’d been found.

“What the fuck do you want?” he asked the creature standing by an open bedroom doorway.

“I think you know,” the vampire replied as it licked its lips. “I’ve been sent by my master.” It reached out towards him as he groped desperately behind him; diving into his jacket hanging just inside his bedroom, to search through the pockets for his vial of holy water. 

But he didn’t need to do that, as footsteps pounded up the stairs and the Doctor raced onto the landing, his sonic held high as it emitted a frequency that had the vampire silently screeching in terror. He calmly accepted the vial from Peter’s hand, bit it open and splashed some onto the creature. 

With an unearthly howl, it blinked out of existence, leaving Peter lying panting on the floor and the Doctor stunned beside him.

“Get some clothes on,” the Doctor said to him and swept downwards, out of sight.

In a rage, Peter followed him down the stairs and into the empty lounge. “Well?! Would you care to explain why you are here?” he demanded to know.

“The Plasmovore,” the Doctor calmly sniffed. “I came to deal with the Plasmovore.”

“Yes, I was there for that bit!” Peter grouched. “I want to know why you are following me and Donna about.”

“Happy coincidence,” the Doctor declared.

Peter glared. “Oh yeah? You just happened to be passing and thought you’d pop in for a spot of vampire slaying?”

“Something like that.” The Doctor grinned inanely at him. 

“I heard voices. John? You never said he was coming here,” Donna sleepily accused Peter as she appeared at the lounge door. “Hello again, John.”

“Hello Donna,” the Doctor cheerfully greeted her. “Sorry about the late hour but I heard…” He then noticed that she wasn’t wearing very much in the way of clothing but seemed unaware of it. “How… how have you been keeping?”

“Fine, thank you. Oh!” His scrutiny made her dip and try to hide her body.

Peter stepped in front of her, hiding her from view. “That’s enough of the pleasantries. We ought to be getting back to bed.”

“You can sleep on the sofa if you like,” Donna instantly offered, much to Peter’s annoyance.

The Doctor shook his head in order to decline. “That is very kind of you, but I’d better be going.”

“What, at this hour?! No, I couldn’t let you go,” she insisted. 

“It seems you’re not the only one,” Peter muttered below his breath. “Yes, you must stay,” he forced himself to say politely.

“Perhaps for just a short while; just to make sure,” the Doctor replied. He gave the sofa a prod, and then settled himself down onto it. “I won’t be needing any sheets.”

But Donna had gone to find some.

“Well? Explain yourself,” Peter ordered; seething with anger.

“I told you; I was passing and came to deal with a Plasmovore,” the Doctor maintained his innocence.

Donna returned a minute or so later. “I have a sheet and a pillow. If you need more, come and bang on our door.”

“That’s enough,” Peter declared, and grabbed hold of her arm possessively to drag her back to bed. “We’ll see you in the morning, _John_.” 

Throwing a glare over his shoulder, they were gone; leaving the Doctor alone.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“John? Are you okay?” The soft voice of a concerned Donna filled the darkness.

The Doctor sat up from where he had laid on the settee, waiting. “I’m fine, Donna,” he replied as brightly as he could. “I thought you were asleep.”

She made right for him and sat down. “I’m worried about you,” she confessed.

“I’m alright. Do you mind if I…?” His hand hovered in question and pressed against her stomach. He felt the energy flow through them. A small essence of him still existed within her, and in her child. Could he class them as being partly his child too? The Doctor smiled. “He will be a beautiful.”

She placed her hand over his where it lay above her unborn baby. “He’s got a head start on most children,” she agreed. “The Plasmovores are after him, aren’t they? Please protect him.”

“Do you mean Peter or the baby?” he queried.

“Both,” she said simply. “Peter is revenge as far as they are concerned, but the baby is for something more sinister. I’m not strong enough to do this on my own.”

“You’ve always been strong, Donna.”

“And you’ve always tried to lie to me,” she countered. “Yes, the baby is helping me to remember you; us. But it won’t last, Spaceman.” She reached up and thumbed away the tear that had appeared on his cheek. “Just for the record, I loved you both independently, not because of. And the Duplicate knew this but promised to say nothing, poor sod! I know he’s not alive in the alternate universe. I can’t feel him anymore, but at least he lives on, in me.” 

“What?! Are you saying this is his child?” he asked in shocked tones. 

She merely smirked knowingly at him, enjoying that she could tease him so; got up and walked away. 

Peter was stood waiting anxiously for her in the bedroom. “What did you say to him? Tell me!”

“Oh Peter,” she lovingly murmured, and wrapped her arms protectively around him. “I said my piece about you and got him to promise to protect the baby.” She then pulled him in for a kiss. “I love you so much,” she whispered.

As they continued to kiss several soft footfalls broke their moment, and they stopped only to find four pairs of eyes watching them. “What do you want and how did you get in here?” Peter demanded to know from the vampires who were now standing within the room.

Two stood by the window and two by the door, blocking their escape route.

“A kind old man let us in. The other one wasn’t so nice. We want you and your child,” one of them answered, showing off his evil grin.

“You’re not getting him,” Donna said decisively, stepping protectively in front of her husband. “Peter, help me deal with this. Move when I do,” she requested and held up her hands behind her shoulders.

Peter obediently grasped them, and she shut her eyes to concentrate.

“What the…?” one of the Plasmovores began to ask their leader when Donna opened her eyes to show that they were glowing brightly with a golden light.

It wasn’t just the intensity of the light but the way it pulsed that affected them. As they tried to move away and from the immediate vicinity, Donna threw her head back, Peter ducked, and a wave of energy burst out from her body.

The Doctor keenly felt it from downstairs and raced up to find out what had caused it. “Donna!” he cried out horrified pain, expecting to find the very worse once he reached the bedroom.

What he actually found was four bodies lying on the bedroom floor, an unconscious Peter and a semi-conscious Donna. The Doctor threw himself onto the floor to cradle her body and ran his fingers expertly over her body to check for any permanent damage. “Are you okay, Donna? What happened?”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she whispered, “Jack. Get Jack. He’ll know how to contain the bodies.”

“Jack?” he wondered as hurt and anger raged through him. “What’s this got to do with Jack? I can deal with this.”

“You always did underestimate him. We owe him so much,” she mumbled and then slipped into a short healing sleep. 

Peter came to and saw not only the Doctor gently laying Donna on the bed but that they had been joined by another Plasmovoric figure. “Look out!” he yelled, but it was too late.

Distracted, the Doctor had foolishly let down his guard; and a strong being grabbed him from behind and bit painfully into his nape. Needle-like teeth efficiently tore through his flesh, causing him to cry out in agony. 

“We meet at last, Doctor,” the vampire creature growled at him. “You may have dismantled my followers but you cannot evade me. I am immortal.”

“Oh yeah?” Peter cried and slammed an object into the creature’s back; piercing what would have been its heart were it still alive. “Take this!”

It shrieked in anger and torture; making a token gesture to attempt to remove the offending object from its back, but it was futile. With an unearthly howl, it burned up before them, struggling as though it was grabbing for a lifeline, and then dissolved into the ether.

“A wooden stake in the heart?” the Doctor queried as he tenderly touched the gaping wound on his neck.

“Crucifixion peg blessed by St Paul and apparently touched by the Archangel Gabriel himself,” Peter supplied, still dazed by the night’s events.

“Nice,” the Doctor complimented, and nodded his head in approval. “That was the master of the Plasmovores I’ve been following; so whatever they probably did to Sylvia should hopefully now be reversed.”

“What about Wilf?” Peter cautiously asked, knowing what the answer would be.

“I’m sorry; so sorry,” the Doctor glumly commented. “There was nothing I could do except avenge his death. Make it less futile.”

Hearing this, Peter sank onto the bed, pulled Donna’s comatosed form to him, and wept for her.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It wasn’t much later that the front door was opened by Jack, much to the Doctor’s complete lack of surprise.

“You really need to be more tidy,” Jack commented to the Doctor when he saw the four alien bodies lying on the floor.

“About that,” the Doctor began his question, “what did Donna mean when she said you’d know what to do? How did she know?”

“No idea,” Jack feigned ignorance.

“Jack!” the Doctor admonished him. “There is something you’re not telling me.”

“I think that should be left for Donna,” Jack enigmatically replied; and then laughed at the Doctor’s resultant pout. “Let’s just say that I helped her out a little bit when you couldn’t.”

“In what way?” the Doctor demanded.

Jack held up his hands in surrender. “Nothing untoward, I promise you. I know how protective you are of her.”

“Well. We were never married,” the Doctor began to protest in his now usual manner.

“But you _were_ biodamped, and later bonded,” Jack persisted, laughing softly. “Too much for me to even risk crossing that line. But I kept an eye on her.”

“Oh,” the Doctor thoughtfully considered as certain events seemed clearer. “Not sure I can escape death this time around.”

Jack only just managed to break his fall as he swooned towards the floor.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“Spaceman!” Donna screamed out as she rushed towards the Doctor. She had woken to find her mother out cold, a distressed Peter, her grandfather a grisly mess; and now this to break her heart! Thank goodness she had got to him in time. He had already started to glow.

He was lying in a pool of blood; a massive gash across from his collarbone to his neck. “I’m alright,” he gasped out, and lifted a hand to touch her cheek. “When I die there’s this thing…”

“You are not going to die,” she adamantly stated. “Not completely; not this time. You’ve got places to go, people to see, idiots to overturn, and then be home in time for tea.”

His face lit up with an amused grin. “I have missed you, Donna Noble. But is time for my life to end.”

“It’s Donna Vincent these days, remember.” She smiled softly. “Talking of remembering, wee one in here…” She gave her stomach a rub. “He saved me and let me get most of my memories safely back. The blast from the past wiped the rest of your mind away. But I think you guessed that memory thing last time we met. He’s not only part me and Peter; he is also part you, so you’d better stick around and help him when he is older. He’ll need family to look out for him.”

“I promise,” the Doctor readily vowed.

“And I also know that all you will need is to go back to the TARDIS and eventually sleep this off,” she huffed. “So less of the dramatics, thank you very much!”

“Ah.” His expression was pure guilt. “But I am destined to die very soon.”

“I know,” she acknowledged. “Do you want Jack and Peter to help you back into the TARDIS? I’ll miss this face of yours when you change.”

“I might never come back this way again,” he began to say, “because I’ll die and a new man will saunter away; so I’d like to say…” His voice faltered as his face crumpled into anguish. 

“I know that too,” she whispered. “You don’t need to say it to me. Bye Spaceman. Have a nice life, and thank you for giving me mine. It’s been brilliant.” Unable to resist it any longer, and knowing that Peter was anxiously watching nearby, she briefly kissed the Doctor one final time.

“You not coming with me?” he asked with more hope than he felt.

“No, I’ve got my own little adventure here,” she fondly stated, giving her baby bump another touch. “One that I have to seek without you.”

“Then Donna Vincent née Noble,” he decisively proclaimed, “I shall take my leave and wish you well. Have a good life, my Donna,” he faintly finished, hugging her as close as he could manage.

“And you.” She wiped away her tears as surreptitiously as she could as Peter and Jack helped him up, and Jack guided them towards the TARDIS sitting patiently outside. “We’ll wait for you,” she promised as the light from him grew stronger.

“Good luck!” Jack called out as the Doctor burst into flames that would regenerate his body.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It felt weird for them to be sipping tea with Jack at half five in the morning. The night had been incredibly eventful; not least with the Doctor dismissing them from the TARDIS within moments of changing. Straight afterwards, Jack had promised to keep in touch and then left to rejoin his Torchwood team in Cardiff. Then and only then could Peter finally reveal his long held secret about the death of his parents, and Donna listened in understanding.

“You knew already, didn’t you?” he accused her.

“Well… once my memories came back, yes I did,” she freely admitted. “When I had gone back in the TARDIS, she had let me seek out all the information I wanted about you. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” 

“That’s okay. It made it all easier with you knowing,” he confessed. “And when you did that blast thing… Wow! I’d avoided coming back to England for years because I suspected they’d try to get me. This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me trying to impress you.”

“Don’t talk daft,” she chided him. “They were on a mission whether you were here or not, so they had to be stopped.”

“But Wilf…,” he sobbed. 

“Yeah,” she softly agreed, and kissed him in consolation. “When you deal with aliens, death soon follows. Gramps would be pleased to know that he helped defeat them. And he will live on in our son.”

Her words hit him hard, and he fought to hold in a scream of anguish. “I love you. Please don’t ever leave me,” he whispered instead.

“Never again,” she vowed. “We’re team Vincent now.”

The feeble joke made him tentatively smile, and they wrapped each other up in love as they faced the world together.


End file.
